


One Hot Night

by Siriusstuff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Flash Fic, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation, Pre-Slash, oblivious boys, simultaneous but not mutual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 20:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: As tagged, Stiles and Derek masturbate simultaneously but not mutually.





	One Hot Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the Merry Month of Masturbation, though there's nothing very merry about it (but there's no angst either.)

Stiles never slept naked but the night was so hot, without a breeze, that even his loosest boxers felt suffocating.

The novel sensation, being completely bare, uncovered, spread out, went right to his dick.

A hard-on wasn’t something Stiles ignored, especially alone in his bed. He took hold of it and started stroking, leisurely at first, drawing out the familiar sensations to savor with the novel ones.

With his free hand he fondled his balls, swiped a finger over his hole. His breaths came quicker, his hips jerking, involuntarily thrusting into the air. His body heat rose but nothing was going to interrupt him now, even as he felt sweat breaking out, quickly dampening his hair, slickening his armpits.

 

The night’s heat kept Derek awake.

There was no cause to patrol Hale territory. There hadn’t been a pack war in generations due to treaties and alliances and more than anything the respect paid the Hale name, carried on by his alpha mother. But Derek put on his jeans, a stretched-out tank top, his sneakers, and left the Hale house as if he had a reason to.

Skirting the Preserve he entered town, paying no attention to the way he went till he’d reached the street where Stiles lived.

No sooner had he recognized the house than his senses exploded—especially his sense of smell.

Despite the air barely stirring something prickled Derek’s nose, something musky, slightly acrid, emanating from Stiles’s bedroom window.

 

He scaled the side of the house to the Stilinski roof, the waning sliver of moon too dim to reveal his movements. All the heartbeats he could hear were those of people asleep—except for one, which was accelerating.

The scent wafting from Stiles’s room right into Derek’s nostrils made him instantly hard. Via little groans and snuffles, even the faintest sound of skin upon skin, Derek knew Stiles was jerking off.

He opened his jeans and dropped to his knees, werewolf instincts keeping him balanced on the roof slope. His hard dick was tingling and twitching even before he’d touched it and soon as he did, his orgasm was on its way.

 

Stiles felt sweat trickle from his scalp and down the sides of his face. Sweat pooled in his sternum. He was seconds from climaxing and so could stand the steaminess, imagining himself rubbing against the muscled bare torso of someone whose name he didn’t speak until he came with a jolt.

Derek heard his name, distorted in a groan, and shot a stream of semen onto the roof somewhere, then another, the third release just dribbling over his fingers.

The sweaty spot where Stiles lay felt suddenly gross, gross as the come, now drying, he’d spurt all over himself. He got to his feet, self-conscious despite knowing he was alone in the house, and went to the bathroom for a cool shower.

 

Back on the ground Derek wiped his sticky hand clean in the grass, further marking the property with his strongest scent.

He looked back at Stiles’s window, took one last deep inhale of aroma now tinctured with Stiles’s most personal, particular essences. Pleased he’d heard his own name as Stiles climaxed, Derek could keep his secret a little longer. He headed toward home at a moderate run.

Stiles exited the bathroom still toweling drops of cool water away. The big damp spot in his bed would be especially nasty now so he spread his towel over it. Before laying down on it he stepped to his window, looking out as if there was something, someone, to see out there.

Of course there wasn’t.


End file.
